Amends
by Calico Yorki
Summary: When Ms. Simian finally pushes all of the wrong buttons, Nicole decides to settle the matter the best way she knows how. WARNING: This is based on the "Huey Lewis and the News" scene of American Psycho, though I tried to keep it fresh and original as best I could. This is not going to be pretty.


There is nothing a mother won't do to protect her son.

This thought echoed through Nicole's mind, as she gently daubed rubbing alcohol on Gumball's brow. "Son," she said quietly, "who did this to you?" He looked away, staying silent. Nicole sighed, putting the alcohol away, and gently turned her son by the chin to look him in the eye. "Gumball, please, tell me." Nicole had mastered many kinds of looks. And the look she was giving Gumball could cause even the most steely of hearts to melt, and pour their darkest secrets.

But when he began to speak, Nicole's blood ran ice cold. "Miss Simian got angry at me, for not answering a question," he said, his voice breaking. "I don't remember what it was, it was embarrassing. And, she hit me over the head with a ruler. I, I'm sorry mom, I..." He began to cry again, and Nicole consoled him.

The next day, she knew what she had to do. She took a vacation day, one of the many she'd meticulously saved up. She sent her family out with some money to the local fair, one she'd been scoping for a day together. Then, she called Ms. Simian, and told her that she wanted to talk about how her son was causing trouble for her. What she really wanted to do was to settle any grievances the family might have with her. Bury the hatchet, as it were.

When Ms. Simian arrived, she found the furniture wrapped in plastic, the table removed from the center of the living room, and the entire floor covered with meticulously taped newspaper articles. As soon as she entered, the door slammed shut - then was locked by Nicole as she covered the noise with a cheerful lie. "I'm very sorry about the arrangements! We've gotten a puppy, he's not potty trained yet. And you know how I love to keep things clean." She smiled, helping the elderly baboon sit. "Please, sit! I'll go get some refreshments!" As she walked into the kitchen, she could hear Ms. Simian grumbling.

All sorts of insults for her precious boy. Oh, the old bitch could really find anything to complain about as far as her students were concerned. "I'm sorry, Ms. Simian, I was just getting your tea! Hold on a moment," Nicole chuckled, slipping a few of her emergency pills, crushed to a fine powder, into the Earl Grey. She couldn't have Ms. Simian getting in a huff and leaving too soon.

Returning to the living room, Nicole set down the cup for Ms. Simian. "I added exactly one and a third packets of sugar, like you enjoy," she smiled. That was just to keep her from noticing the taste of the medicine. "Hold on, let me put on some music!" On top of the plastic-wrapped TV, she turned on the plastic-wrapped CD player. Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture, a masterpiece and the only thing that Nicole and the decrepit old loon in front of her had in common as a like.

Ms. Simian was already growing too dazed to speak, and wasn't sure why. "Oh, silly me," Nicole chirped, "I need to go finish preparing! Excuse me." She went into the kitchen, and began to put on a rain slicker. "You know, the 1812 Overture is truly spectacular," she shouted, fastening each button with excitement. Peeking out, she saw that Ms. Simian was too distracted by her growing drowsiness, and also checked to make sure that the blinds were securely taped down. "Listen, and soon, the church bells will begin, followed closely by the cannon fire! Tchaikovsky really only used them because he was told he could use _any_ instrument he wanted! Cannons as an instrument, wasn't he a _genius?_" Richard had wondered for a while where his spare rubber goggles had gone to. They were now worn over Nicole's crazed eyes.

Then, just as the crescendo came, Nicole emerged, dragging something behind her. "Excuse me, Ms. Simian?" The fossilized sack of shit looked, to see Nicole with a blood-stained hatchet leaned on her shoulder. That was the last thing she saw, as the crescendo signalled Nicole's attack. "YOU ANCIENT BITCH," Nicole screamed, "_NOW_ TRY TO ASSAULT INNOCENT CHILDREN, YOU _CUNT!_" She delivered 47 hatchet blows to Ms. Simian's head and torso.

For a while, Nicole sat in the blood spatter, smiling calmly down at Ms. Simian's mutilated body, limbs and tail akimbo. She could take her time with clean-up - she told Richard to have the kids home by 7:00, so they'd probably be back about 10:00 or 11:00.

By the time everyone got home, the living room was spotless, and Nicole was surprisingly understanding of Richard losing track of time. She sent all of the children to bed with a kiss to their brows, and slept very calmly herself; snuggled close to Richard.

Meanwhile, Ms. Simian was buried in the back yard: just like the rest.


End file.
